


Failing

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [316]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Overworking, Pre series, Sam works way too hard, School, failing a class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Sam can't stand to fail a class, even if he'll be out of the school before he knows it.





	

Sam blinks in abject confusion. “What?” he asks.

“You’re failing,” the teacher repeats. Sam is aware enough to know that the teacher is trying to make the words gentle, but they feel like a slap to the face regardless. “I’m sorry, Sam, but you’re just having trouble keeping up. Clearly, your last school had a different curriculum. Maybe a bit…behind. It’s only been a few weeks, Sam, but the fact remains, with your last test score, we’ll have to drop you to the lower level course.”

“I can catch up,” is out of Sam’s mouth before he knows what he’s saying. It doesn’t even matter, not really, because the fact remains he won’t be here too long, and when he leaves he can try the upper level math course again. And he doesn’t have _time_  to bring his grade up, anyways, between all the research he’s doing for dad and just getting his homework done and training with Dean. Nevertheless, the thought of falling behind, in any capacity, at failing school in any way, sickens him.

The teacher looks at him doubtfully. “Sam, i appreciate the dedication. I appreciate you trying. But the fact remains I think you just might be more comfortable in the next level down. It won’t be so hard on you, you can bring your grade up. You can learn the material with everyone else.”

“I can catch up,” Sam repeats, desperation creeping into his voice now. He can’t fail, not this. School is his thing, his only thing. The only thing that’s his and entirely his. “Just…give me two weeks. Until the next test. I can catch up. You’ll see.”

The teacher’s expression hasn’t changed, but her eyes are softening. “I’m willing to let you try,” she says. “But it will be a lot of work,” she warns.

Sam nods. “I can do it.”

“And if you don’t do well on the next test–a seventy-five or better, Sam–I’m dropping you down a level. Not as punishment. To help you. Do you understand that, Sam? This isn’t punishment.”

Sam nods. He knows. “I can do it,” he repeats. “I swear, just…two weeks.”

She nods. “Two weeks. Take a textbook home, and start studying. Feel free to ask your classmates for their notes. I’m after school every day until three thirty, if you have any questions.”

Sam nods, grabbing a textbook. “Thank you,” he says, hurrying out the door, already planning how to fit learning an entire math curriculum in around everything else.

When Sam takes the test two weeks later, he hasn’t slept for two days, he’s seeing algebraic formulas behind his eye lids, and his hands are twitching from his caffeine intake. Nevertheless, he manages to pull off an 86, which means, for the rest of his time at this particular school at least, he’ll be able to stay in the higher level math class. 

The teacher looks a mix of impressed, proud, and faintly disturbed when she hands Sam’s test back, but all Sam can do is breathe a sigh of relief. It feels better than finally digging up the right answer for a hunt, or shooting a perfect score, or anything else he has to do, honestly.


End file.
